Blood-Lust
by Crazy.rabbit2
Summary: Hetalia city is overrun by Vampires, but Alfred's the only human who seems to notice, and he's determined to stop them. Meanwhile, Arthur the wizard and Gilbert the vampire make an unlikely pair, but together they struggle to survive in this city, which isn't easy, especially when they're being tailed by their former coven. Francis on the other hand is more interested in revenge.
1. Chapter 1

"Careful, or you'll kill him." Arthur said, frowning as he leaned against the red-brick wall. His Prussian companion, Gilbert, looked up his crimson eyes glowing with something raw and feral. Gilbert was kneeling on the cold, damp floor, a limp bleeding body clutched in his arms.

"Just a little more. This blood is so awesome!" Gilbert begged, a sliver of blood trickling down his snow-white skin. But Arthur shook his head firmly, he was the type of person who, when he made up his mind couldn't be swayed.

"You've had more than enough blood tonight, Vampire." The Blonde said, he crouched down next to Gilbert, prying the half-dead body away from him. "we agreed no more killing. No more unnecessary killing."

"Your so un-awesome sometimes!" Gilbert growled, but relented and let the Brit take the body from him. It wasn't fair. What was one tiny human life? Arthur wasn't a vampire, he didn't understand how deep the blood-lust was, how it was like a dull ache that was always within Gilbert, a searing flame that could never be doused even with all the blood in the world.

Arthur ignored Gilbert and lay the bleeding body on the floor, he closed his leaf-green eyes and let the magic flow through him, he muttered under his breath, and as he did, the colour returned to the bodies face- he no longer looked half dead.

Gilbert watched, trying to pretend like he wasn't interested, like he didn't think Arthur's abilities were amazing- Despite being a vampire, Gilbert was pretty skeptical of most things supernatural. He didn't think wizards existed until he'd met Arthur.

"Come on, it's almost sunrise. And as fun as it'd be to watch you burn to a crisp, I unfortunately still need your help." Arthur said, as he got up- as eloquent as ever. Gilbert laughed, throwing his arms around the younger boy's neck.

"Come on Artie! you'd miss me if I burnt!" Gilbert said in a sing-song voice. Arthur flushed and tried to pull him of.

"I would not!"

"I bet you'd cry!" Gilbert teased- he couldn't help it, Arthur was just so easy to wind up.

"Get of me before I break your spine, vampire!"

"Aw your getting embarrassed, zat's adorable."

"Fuck of!"

The two supernatural entities walked out of the alleyway arguing, leaving behind the unconscious man who was lying motionless on the floor. They were a team, Gilbert and Arthur; the two of them were both the type of people who usually worked alone, but in this city being alone isn't wise if you didn't want to get slaughtered during one of many supernatural turf wars.

The city of Hetalia was basically run by vampires, and the humans were non the wiser, blaming the high death rate on gang murders. Here, Vampires fought for control over land, because if you owned the land you owned the people, and people meant blood. In Hetalia, blood was the real currency, not money, not gold. Blood.

* * *

Alfred sat down in the hard wooden chair, scowling at the ground a defiant look in his sky blue eyes. His honey-coloured hair was disheveled and his square glasses were askew on his face. It was clear that the American was not happy. Suddenly, the headmaster burst through the door looking absolutely furious.

"I cannot believe you, Jones! it was cute back when you were a kid but your seventeen now. This nonsense has to stop!" Mr Derringer yelled, seething with rage. he wasn't usually like this- Mr Derringer was one of those teachers who tried desperately to be cool and down with the kids. He hardly ever snapped, But Alfred seemed to just have that sort of effect on people.

"-Listen dude, I think you're over-reacting. All I did was- " Alfred started, but his teacher cut him of, angrily.

"All you did was soak the school inspector with water. And pelted him with garlic! are you insane!" Mr Derringer roared his face was red and his eyes practically bulged.

"I thought he was a vampire!" Alfred shouted, exasperated; Why didn't anyone else notice that this city was overrun by vampires, Alfred should be given a medal for being a hero instead of being yelled at.

"Are you insane!?" The headmaster repeated. Alfred tried his best to remain calm, something that he wasn't good at since he usually just wore his heart on his sleeve.

"He was deathly pale- and I swear he stunk of blood- You can never be too careful. I was trying to protect everyone!" The American boy tried to explain, but Mr Derringer was already sitting down in grim defeat.

"I'd put you on detention, but quite frankly I'm sick of looking at you- just get out." The Head said, reaching for the flask he kept under his desk. The one that certainly didn't contain water..

So Alfred stormed out the office, instead of feeling triumphant at getting out of a detention, he just felt like shit; He was a vampire hunter who'd yet to hunt any vampires, so instead of treating him like a hero he was just seen as a nuisance, crazy even. He walked home, disgraced, as usual the streets were filthy it was only three but the pollution blocked out the sun, darkening the area and making it seem even grimmer.

The walls were lined with missing people posters, it seemed like new ones were put up everyday. Fucking vampires. People of all ages, races, and backgrounds were on the posters, they seemed to stare at Alfred with accusing eyes _Why didn't you save us? Why did you let the Vampires kill us. _The American boy hurried past, because dammit he'd had enough guilt for today! He kept his eyes glued to the pavement, when suddenly-

**Bam!**

The impact from the sudden collision sent Alfred crashing into the pavement his glasses flying of and skidding across the ground. Before he had a chance to stand up, an angry voice was yelling at him.

"Watch were your bloody going!" The voice hissed. Alfred looked up to see a boy of about his age, maybe a little older, getting to his feet. he had light blonde hair and thick black eyebrows that both suited him and looked out of place.

"No. YOU should look were YOUR going, dude!" The American yelled, already way not in the mood for this. The other man just huffed and brushed himself of.

"Bloody yank," He huffed.

"dumb limey." Alfred retaliated, pulling on his glasses and standing up- damn, his shoulder hurt! The blonde Brit pushed past him, clearly in a hurry. That was when Alfred noticed something; Blood. Alfred could see red blood staining the cuff of the stranger's sleeve. He was a vampire.

"Halt! Alfred demanded, chasing after the Vampire-suspect. But the blonde boy kept on walking as if he hadn't heard anything. Infuriated, Alfred chased him. and tackled him, shoving him to the wall.

"What the bloody hell is your problem!" The other boy said, wincing, trapped by Alfred's superior strength. His green eyes were wide and alarmed. Alfred didn't pay any heed- instead he grabbed the Brit by the shoulder, and dragged his coat of, revealing a sleeve that was completely covered in blood.

"Vampire!" Alfred yelled triumphantly, he'd finally caught one- suddenly there was a flash of bright light sent Alfred flying back to the ground in a daze. His vision blurred and he looked up just in time to see the Blonde boy running away...

* * *

"That stupid Rosbif, he's going to expose the entire community. And he isn't even a vampire!" Francis hissed, looking down on the scene from above, he was hidden in the shadows, standing on a rooftop.

"Don't worry, nobody takes the Alfred boy Seriously." Antonio laughed in his thick Spanish accent. He placed a reassuring arm on his French friend's shoulder, his usual sunny smile playing on his lips. Antonio was a Spaniard with tan skin, grape-green eyes and an easy smile. He was about as far away from a typical vampire as you could get.

"Fucking French bastard. We've been stalking your stupid ex-slave all day. lets go!" Lovino called out, stomping his foot for emphasis. The Italian boy looked about ready to explode "We get that your angry he escaped and your supposed 'best friend' helped him. But get over it!"

"Quite blood slave or I'll make you be quiet!" Francis hissed, baring his fangs at the Italian human, his Blue eyes glowering with rage. Lovino squeaked and hid behind Antonio.

"Hey, Francis, come on don't take in out on the human, si?" Antonio said, smiling obliviously. "We can tail Arthur later. Now. We should eat."

The French man nodded, shaking his long blonde hair "Desole, Lovi" He said, but the Italian continued to glare at him fearfully. "Now. Lets find some prey."

* * *

**(IDk what this is.. I just wrote it of the top of my head. sorry for mistakes!**

**and please review! reviews are love!)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Careful, or you'll burn it." Francis' silky smooth voice hissed into his ear. The French man was standing far too close behind him, gripping his wrist as he held the pan.  
Francis was teaching Arthur to cook.

"I'm not going to bloody burn it, it's been on here for two seconds!" The english boy said, scowling. The vampire laughed, resting his on Arthur's shoulder, startling him.

"But you 'ave such a talent for burning things _mon ami_."

"Excellent. Maybe I can use that talent on you one day." Arthur growled irritably. Francis laughed again, but tightened his grip on his proxy's wrist, digging his fingernails in hard enough to leave little crescent-shaped purple bruises.

"You know I don't like eet when your rude, Rosbif." Francis said, the cadence of his voice still jovial and light. Arthur winced and tightened his grip on the pan, trying just to focus on the crepe sizzling inside of it.

"Well I don't damn about what you like, Frog." Arthur snapped, before he even had time to regret his words, he found himself being slammed painfully into the wall, face to face with his vampire captor. The frying pan clattered out of his hand onto the wooden floor. It was quiet for one dreadful tense moment, the only sound Arthur could hear was the gentle hiss of the grill, and his own hammering heart-beat.

"Arthur, what 'ave I told you about manners." Francis said, his voice managing to sound both sweet and deadly at the same time, like poison-laced candy.

"You appreciate manners." The Brit answered quickly, his voice sounding far more confident and defiant than he felt. The French vampire grinned at him.

"That's right Arthur, I appreciate manners." He said, despite his sing-song voice, his sapphire blue eyes were glowing a terrifying blue shade, and his pearl-white fangs were growing, protruding from his mouth.

* * *

Arthur woke up with a start, sitting upright on the bed, the feeling of terror still surging through him. He took a moment to work out were he was- he was in his room, in his flat, he was safe. The room was pitch black other than neon street-lights that flooded in through the curtain-less windows.  
The old scar on his neck, just over his jugular, was stinging again.

"Nightmare?" Gilbert asked from the bed next to him. Arthur jumped out of his skin.

"Bloody hell! we need separate rooms!" The blonde gasped, still feeling on edge. Gilbert cackled.

"Aw did you get scared by my awesomeness?" He teased, Arthur glowered at him, knowing that despite the lack of light Gilbert would be able to see him perfectly with his enhanced vampire vision. "Come on! Don't get pissy at me! I'm genuinely concerned. I'm being an awesome friend."

"If I have to hear the word awesome one more time- " The Brit started, furrowing his thick eyebrows. He still didn't trust Gilbert. Not completely.

"Stop changing the subject." Gilbert said, waving his hand dismissively. "Now what was the nightmare about."

Arthur crossed his arms. "What're you? My therapist?" He huffed. After some hesitation, he relented. "It was just about Francis. Just an old memory, really, it's nothing."  
"That bastard doesn't even leave you alone in your dreams? So unawesome." Gilbert said, half-joking. Then he caught Arthur's worried expression. "-Don't worry about Franny. Without vampire-venom coursing through your veins all the time, your magic means he can't touch you."

"I know- " Arthur said, a rare smile playing on his lips that made his silver-haired friend feel strangely accomplished. The blonde fell back into the pillow, mumbling a sleepy "-Night "  
He was asleep again in an instant. Gilbert always envied how quickly his friend could escape reality to sleep. As a vampire, Gilbert didn't have to sleep- he could, but it took a lot of concentration, something he wasn't ever good at.

Restless, the Prussian got up and began tidying the apartment (because he actually was kind of a neat freak). The bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom. His and Arthur's home. It was tiny, full of junk and sparsely decorated, but it was home. He wouldn't ever trade it for the old mansion he, Francis and Toni used to live in. Especially since he and Arthur burnt it down. The Prussian wondered again how long they'd stay like this. Living together. The only reason they stayed in the city was to protect their families from Francis, who'd certainly target them if they left. But it wasn't like either of them could ever live with their family again.

They were both suppose to be dead.

Gilbert felt a sick twist in his stomach thinking of Luddy, his little brother. That serious little boy was a fully-grown stoic man now. Gilbert had no place in his life. And once he and Arthur got rid of Francis, they'd have no place anywhere.

* * *

Alfred chucked the baseball with all his might. It bounced of the wall and he caught it smoothly in his hand.

"I almost had him, Matt." He said through gritted teeth, as he carried on throwing the baseball against the wall. It made a loud thump that reverberated around the room. "It was a real vampire. I saw the blood, I had him in my hands. But he did this thing- It was like magic. I didn't know vampires could do that. Do you?"

Alfred paused, and the room was silent besides for the continuing thumping noise as he threw the ball against the wall again and again. The American boy took a deep breath and continued.

"Your right. I guess I should see this as a positive- I mean- at least I've seen a vampire now. Properly." Alfred said, a triumphant smile spreading across his face, replacing his seething expression almost instantly. "I know what one vampire looks like. If I'm smart I'll be able to find him- and find the others!"

Alfred once again was met by silence. He laid back on his bed, and glanced at the photograph of his half brother, Matthew. "I should of believed you on the vampire thing before it was too late. Then maybe you'd still be there, and I wouldn't be talking to myself like a madman."

Even though they were only half brothers, Matthew and Alfred had been born days apart, and they looked almost identical- they both had the same round face, and wide eyes, but there were a few suble differences between them. Alfred's eyes were sky blue, and his hair was straight, short and messy, while Matthews eyes were indigo, and he had longer chin-length curly hair.

"Dinner!" Alfred's mother called from downstairs, tearing Alfred away from thoughts of his brother. He jumped of the bed, and sped down the stairs eager for food as always.

"Alright! It better be burgers or something awesome like that!" The American boy cheered, as he ran into the dinning room, almost knocking over his father in the process. To his disappointment, it wasn't burgers or anything that looked particularly tasty. it was just some weird soup.

"What's this crud?" Alfred complained, frowning as he took a seat at the table, his mother walked in and scowled at him. She was a plump lady, who was usually the kindest, sweetest woman ever, but she had a terrible temper if you crossed her.

"Alfy! don't be rude! Francis helped make this!" She chided, placing a pudgy hand on her hips. As soon as she said his name, Francis walked from the kitchen into the dining room, his silky blonde hair falling over his face in a way that looked so perfect it had to be on purpose, as usual, he was wearing stylish tailored clothes that showed of his lean body perfectly. He was what Alfred's Dad would call a pansy.

"Francis! I didn't know you were here." Alfred beamed, looking up at the Frenchman.

"Your Mama had me busy helping in the kitchen. Too bad all my work is for nothing- you think my soup is 'crud'?" Francis said, clearly offended. The guy was touchy about hid food, and immensely proud of his cooking abilities- He took any criticism of it very personally.

"Oh, lighten up yo! the soup's fine!" Alfred laughed, rolling his eyes. But he was glad Francis' was here. He'd been Matthew's French tutor, and one of the few people who gave a shit when Matthew went missing. After that, he'd sort of become a part of the Jone's family, even though the flamboyant European didn't really fit in with Alfred's all american family.

"So, I 'eard you got in trouble at school over the vampire thing. Any progress on it?" The Frenchman mocked, as he sat down.

"Oh, don't encourage him!" Alfred's father, Sam, muttered. The American teen ignored him, keen to tell Francis of his latest achievement.

"I actually saw a vampire! I basically got in a fight with him! ..but he got away!" Alfred declared, slamming his spoon down on the table to put emphases on how dramatic this was. Francis merely chuckled.

"Let me guess? you attacked some poor innocent civilian. _Sacre Bleu_!"

"No way dude! It was a vampire. He had blood on his sleeve, and when I grabbed him, he repelled me with like.. some kind of magic. I swear to God!" Alfred said, almost shouting now, his mother sent both him and Francis a warning look.

"Let's have no more talk of the super natural at this table." Libby said. She worried for her son, Alfred. She guessed his obsession with vampires stemmed from the fact he couldn't deal with reality, and accept Matthew was gone.

"désolé" Francis said, looking apologetic. The rest of the meal continued in awkward silence, the air heavy with tension, and words that nobody wanted to say. Alfred assumed Francis just thought he was crazy like everyone else seemed to, that he didn't believe him about the vampires. But, after dinner as Francis was leaving and they were saying their goodbyes, the older man whispered to Alfred as he pulled him into a farewell embrace (something the frenchman always insisted on doing.

"If you ever see that vampire again, use this on him." Francis hissed into the American boy's ear. He slipped a velvet purse into Alfred's hands subtly, without his parents knowing despite them standing right next to them. Alfred felt a thrill of excitment and confusion.. So Francis Believed him? What'd he given him? why? but before he had a chance to ask any questions, the blonde was already prancing out the door into the night,

"_Aurevior!" _Francis called, walking out under the neon orange streetlamps.

* * *

"Francis is a sick bastardo." Lovino said, his voice heavy with contempt as he lay lazily on the leather couch, eating a slice of his own homemade pizza. Antonio sighed sightly, continuing to clean the floor as he spoke. Despite the fact Lovino was suppose to be his blood-slave, Antonio was usually the one acting like a servant.

"But he's _mi amigo._ Francis can be a little.. intense.. sometimes but he means well!" Antonio said, smiling obliviously. Lovino's frown deepened.

"You don't think it's sick that he still visits that stupid Jones family after what he did to Matthew?" The Italian boy seethed, a sour expression on his face. "On top of that he is a _grande__ pervertito. _I don't know why you just leave him. So then I could leave too!"

Antonio just laughed. "You call all red when your annoyed at something! you look like a little tomato!"

"Take me seriously you bastard! you're pissing me of!" Lovino exploded, losing his temper (Which didn't take much). "I hate having to live with him! ..I hate having to be with you!"

The Spaniard stopped laughing, and fixed Lovino a serious look. "You don't mean that, Lovi, you know were you'd be without us?"

Before Lovino had a chance to respond, a pale blue mist seeped into the room from under the window sill floating down to the floor, then rising. From the fog, a man formed with pale blonde hair and a devious smile.

_"Salut! _Antonio. Still doing work for your lazy slave, si?" Francis said,as he appeared in the room fully. His appearance only worsened Lovino's mood.

"Haven't you ever heard of the door, dumbass? Why'd you always have to come in here in the creepiest way possible!?" The Italian shouted. The blonde ignored him, walking straight past the seething boy, to Antonio, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I have found a way to get back that _stupide _rosbif. Prehaps even Gilbert too, for revenge." Francis said, his voice somehow managing to be as soft as silk and as deadly as a blade. Antonio looked at him blankly.

"But his magic- "

"It doesn't matter." Francis said, falling back onto the couch next to Lovino, much to the Italian's discomfort. "I know a way to stop his magic. It jut needs to be a human who does it.."

"But we're not human- " Antonio said, dumbly. Francis laughed, a cold deadly sound that was like nails on a chalk board to Lovino's ears.

"_Oui, _did you think I'd forget my own species? But I have human friends." Francis said, as he walked out of the living room into the kitchen, his triumphant smirk still in place.

* * *

**(A/N- Tell me honestly. Have I put too much mystery in this? because most of the plans, backgrounds, character's ect are all mysterys so far. Just to clear things up, Romano is a human in this. **

**Anyway, a huuuge thank you to everyone who commented, I couldn't of made this chapter without it! sorry if this chapter's a little dialouge-heavy, it's just setting stuff up for the next chapter. This chapter was pretty Francis-centered. It kind of ended up being about his influence over people. Later on in the story, I'll probably explore beyond his persona and into his backstory :)**

**Anyway, PLEASEE comment :)**


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